Manta Rays and Memory Loss
by The Septillionaire
Summary: A woman is found strangled and the only person with any clue to who killed her can't remember who he is. But that's not all; Lisbon somehow lost ten hours of memory herself the night before and woke up somewhere she did and didn't want to be...
1. Wake Up Call

**A/N:** Hey there, Septillionaire here. My first fanfiction! And it's the Mentalist; big surprise. First off, I'd like to shake you warmly by the hand for recognizing how great a show The Mentalist is.

This is a story I thought of while catching myself up on all the episodes I missed and reading all the Jane/Lisbon fanfics out there. Yes, all of them. Or at least 90%. Maybe 85%; some were not too good.

Oh, and I tend to get distracted and forget about the projects I'm working on, so the chapters may come few and far between, but if you read AND review, it might remind me to write more chapters.

**Disclaimer:** As Rent so eloquently put it, "You are what you own". I am not The Mentalist.

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The first thing Teresa Lisbon realized when she woke up was that she didn't remember much of anything from the night before. She kept her eyes closed, trying to think back to – her date. That's right, she'd had a date with…God what was his name…Geoffrey Harrison? That was it. Well, she nearly chuckled, it must have gone well seeing as her hand was resting on someone's chest, presumably his. Presumably, that is, until she opened her eyes and saw she was lying next to the handsome (and at this point quite bare) Patrick Jane. Who was awake. And staring at her. With a smile that only widened as he realized she was awake.

Cop reflexes can really be astonishing, and Lisbon's were no different; it seemed that, as soon as she realized that the man under her covers wasn't who she thought he was, the gun tucked neatly under her pillow was in her hand, the barrel pressed against the side of Jane's head.

"Whoa there, Lisbon; stand down!" he said, hands up and open, his smile immediately flipped into an anxious frown. She was already five shades of red and going on six, clearly mortified to be under the circumstances she'd been so brusquely presented with. If he could just calm her down…"You don't want to shoot me." Worth a try, at least.

"Really?" she replied incredulously in the snarky voice she saved for all his other scatter brained theories. He cringed. "First tell me what the hell you're doing here, then we'll see about that."

He looked at her quizzically. "You don't…remember?"  
"Remember what?"  
"I mean, you were pretty gone last night, but still…you seriously don't remember? That's really interesting." He focused his gaze on her eyes, as if trying to figure out every inner working of her mind…  
"Interesting?" Lisbon was already upset, but now he was just being annoying. "You know what? Fine. Don't tell me. I'm sure I'll remember the details of your sick little joke later." She stood, gathering a blanket and wrapping it carefully around her.

"Lisbon-"

She held up a hand to silence him. "Just…I'll see you at work." She exited the room, taking off down the hallway, and pretty soon Jane heard a door shut and water running. He knew that the only way to do right by Lisbon was to be gone by the time it turned off, so he sighed, got up, and started to dress.

Oh. My. God. Lisbon could hardly believe it, thinking it was just some bizarre dream, but the heat from the flush in her cheeks proved it. Had she…really…and Jane…no, impossible. Rules were rules. And she liked rules. Rules gave thing an order, a pattern, and the more one stuck to the rules the more controllable situations were. And the number one CBI rule was _no dating coworkers._ Not even mentioning the number one Lisbon rule, _no personal life at the office._ And now even that was shattered. But the hot water was helping. She was sure she could forget all about this by the time she got to work.

"I mean, if I don't remember," she said aloud, "Then there's a good chance it didn't happen, right?" Of course, that got her thinking of if it actually had, and imagining…she shook her head, dispelling all thoughts of _that_ from her mind. There were more important things to worry about, such as the ten-some missing hours between last night and this morning. No way could she have been drunk enough on a first date to waste her memory of an entire night. No, something must have happened…she turned off the shower, wrapped herself in a towel, and headed back to her room. She froze, about to enter. What if Jane hadn't left? She peered around the wall and into the room. Empty. Thank God.

-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-

The bullpen was a bustle of activity that Monday morning. Rigsby, having lost a bet to Cho, had gotten a tattoo over the weekend: a manta ray on his upper left arm (Cho's choice) that looked like it was swimming when he flexed his muscles. Cho brought it up every time they passed someone who hadn't heard, from Minelli (who pretended to laugh then sternly told them to get back to work) to the security guards to-

"Van Pelt, Rigsby got a tattoo." Cho said nonchalantly as Van Pelt rushed in, hoping no one would notice the fact that she was late by almost half an hour.

"Cho-" Rigsby tried to stop him, but it was too late. Van Pelt had come over, crossing her arms with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, can it Rigsby. You remember the terms: winner gets to gloat." Cho said, taking a sip of his coffee.

"I told you, Rigsby, if you keep betting with Cho he'll do something permanent." Van Pelt laughed. "Let's see it then."

Rigsby rolled up his sleeve, relieved she approved. He flexed his muscles and Van Pelt laughed as the manta ray swam.

"Can I touch it?" she asked, and Cho choked on his coffee, snickering. It didn't help Van Pelt (who was now blushing) that Jane had overheard as he entered.

"Always interesting, you two. Though I would suggest a change of scenery for…intimacies."

Seeing as Rigsby was making an odd rattling sound instead of a coherent statement and Van Pelt was avoiding every pair of eyes, Cho took the liberty of explaining, though he left the details of the bet up in the air.

"Oh. Well done, Cho. May I?." Rigsby nodded, glad the attention was off Van Pelt, for her sake. Jane examined the tattoo carefully. "You bet you could fill up the SUV and get it back to headquarters faster than Cho, correct, Rigsby?"

"How did you-" Rigsby asked, startled, while Cho just stared at Jane, surprised but poker faced as usual.

"Well, you obviously went first, and when Cho made his run he took the shortcut past the California Aquarium, where they recently got two Australian-"

"Manta rays." Rigsby finished. "I was wondering what made him pick it."

"A subconscious decision, I'm sure, but his mind was connecting his victory with how he did it, so it's not too illogical." Jane hopped to lie down on his couch, shutting his eyes for one of his customary naps.

"Hey, Van Pelt, you seen the boss this morning?" Rigsby asked, now that the tattoo business was over.

"Actually, no. I was expecting to be chewed out over being late, but she wasn't in her office and her car wasn't in the lot."

Jane opened one eye tentatively. _Where are you, Lisbon?_ He thought, staring intently at the elevator. As if on cue, the doors dinged and opened, and she walked out, flipping through the case Minelli had just handed her.

"Boss, where you been?" Rigsby asked, receiving a glare from her. One of those days, he thought, swallowing uneasily. "Sorry. Never mind."

"Sonia Keating was found strangled to death and tied up in the trunk of her car. The local sheriffs estimate she's been there a couple of days, but they can't find anything about her in their records. Van Pelt, I want you to run her name through every database you can think of and try and find out something that may have made her a target. Cho, Rigsby, Jane, we're going to check out the crime scene." She tossed a set of keys to Rigsby, but Cho caught them.

"Another term of the bet?" Jane asked with a smile as he followed Lisbon out. Cho nodded and allowed himself half a smile before grabbing his coat and heading out.


	2. Thorns

A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry I made you wait so long. As I told madaboutthementalist, I was away on a college visit, and was supposed to come home tomorrow; somehow I managed to make it home a day early! Unfortunately, I caught a nasty stomach bug while I was there, so I only wrote a twig of a chapter. It does advance the plot, though, and I'm gonna do the one I planned to write right now, meaning that you get two chapters tonight instead of one! Aren't I generous?

Disclaimer: I now own a Point Park University zip up hoodie, but not The Mentalist.

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"Sonia Keating, age 29, orphaned with one brother, James Keating; previously attended UCA for criminal justice and forensic psychology; has an apartment in the Foothill Farms Complex, and – here's the good part – she's got a split rent," Van Pelt finished with a flourish, typing into her computer while crushing the phone against her ear. "I'm still trying to track down the name of the roommate, but it could take a while."

"Good work." Lisbon replied. "Get me James Keating's home address while you're at it, and call me when you've got it."  
"On it, boss."

There was a click, and Van Pelt hung up. She hated being left alone at the office to answer phones, but at least she didn't have to drive half an hour out to some obscure apartment complex parking lot. The phone rang, and she sighed.

"California Bureau of Investigation, Special Crimes- what?" Van Pelt rolled her eyes. "No, sir, I'm afraid you've got the wrong number. Gianni's Pizza is two streets over. Hey, I'm not being- you watch your language! Well, fine! I'll see you there, then!" she slammed the phone down on the receiver. Go to hell indeed. Just another day at the office.

-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-

The rest of the SCU were scattered around the crime scene. Rigsby was snapping pictures of the damaged Ford Focus that Sonia Keating's body was found in, while Cho was taking statements from the two police officers that found the car. Their superior, however, was not as cooperative as them; the grizzly man was proving particularly…difficult to deal with.

"Our territory, our case, lady!" he shouted as soon as Lisbon showed him her badge. She grit her teeth; this was not her day, and she was _so_ not in the mood to deal with half-ass cops.

"Let me remind you, Chief Lane, that you DO NOT outrank the California Bureau of Investigation, and I would ask that-"

"Ask all you want, but you ain't gettin' squat. We found the vic, so-"

"What is this, finders keepers?? Do not make me place a call to the DA and have you suspended for disorderly contact, Chief!"

The chief removed his cigarette and tapped the ashes onto Lisbon's shoes.

"Let me make one thing abundantly clear, Agent Lisbon; I'm not the type who's threatened by little dandelions dressed up like cops." He sneered.

"Oh really? Well you know what I have to say to that?" Lane smirked in reply, and the next thing he knew he was on his back, the victim of a nasty right hook to his jaw. Lisbon gave him a sweet smile, which immediately turned into her inimitable glare.

"Next time you piss off a flower, mind the thorns."

She turned briskly and motioned to Cho and Rigsby.

"Sexist bastard." She muttered. "All right. I want you to- wait a minute, where the hell's Jane?"

Rigsby jabbed a finger to their left, where Jane was balancing his way across a cement parking space header. Lisbon rolled her eyes.

"Well, get him over here. I'm sure that I'll be getting a call-"

As if on cue, her phone rang.

"Lisbon."

It was Mineli. "I'm not gonna ask why, and I don't think you need me to tell you that you're-"  
"Temporarily suspended from the case, pending a formal apology to the local department chair."

"Right. Now, are you gonna come back to headquarters nicely, or do I need to send security?"

"I'll be back in 45."

There was a click as Mineli hung up, and Lisbon snapped her phone shut.

"I'm going back to the office. Now, Van Pelt says that Sonia Keating had a roommate, so I want you to ask around and try and find out who he or she was. Oh, and DO NOT under any circumstances tell Jane why I'm not here. Make something up. Call me when you find the roommate; by then I should have James Keating's address for you to check out."

"Will do, boss." Cho replied.

"Good." She turned to leave, and then added. "And keep an eye on Jane? Don't let him get into any trouble."

"Trouble? Me?" Jane said, appearing out of nowhere. Lisbon jumped, swearing under her breath. "Now why would you get that idea?"

"I wonder. Really, try to behave yourself." She turned and walked away, heading back to the SUV she had driven to the scene.

"Where are you going?" Jane shouted, but Lisbon only waved at him dismissively in response.

-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-

Lisbon gripped the steering wheel. "Damn it!" she growled, before whacking her head against it and driving away.


	3. White and Silver

**A/N:** Meant to post this last night, but I fell asleep at the computer. However, there's not much to say that I didn't say earlier, just reminding you to REVIEW. You can always give suggestions, hazard guesses about the plot, and criticize or compliment different parts. Reviews make me happy, and a happy Septillionaire is a generous Septillionaire (two chapters in a 24 hour period; clearly I'm happy). Have a good Sunday, and for all you folks who start school on Monday, good luck!

**Disclaimer: **If I owned The Mentalist, I would live in California, have tea with Simon Baker on a regular basis, and get a red and black motorcycle to cruise around on.

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"Lisbon, I don't know what's gotten into you." Mineli was trying very hard not to completely lose his temper. "I can understand this kind of crap from Jane, and maybe Rigsby even, but you? I'm supposed to be able to depend on you!"  
"I'm sorry, sir. I'm just…tired is all, and I lost my composure with Chief Lane. It won't happen again."

"Well, wherever you misplaced your composure? Find it, and get back on track. And get some rest. We can't have the senior agent losing it at a crime scene, got it?"

"Got it."

"All right, you can go." Lisbon turned to leave. "Oh, one more thing. What did he say to you to set you off like that?"

"He called me a dandelion, sir."

Mineli suppressed a smirk. "Well, unofficially I think the idiot deserved it." He sat down and picked up the phone. "I'll make a call, have you back out and about tomorrow. For today, stay in and get some work done."

Lisbon gave a mock salute. "Will do, Boss."

-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-

"Anything yet?" Lisbon asked, pulling a chair up next to Van Pelt.  
"On the roommate? No. But I do have James Keating's address." Van Pelt handed Lisbon a scrap of paper. "He lives in the same complex, six floors below his sister's place."

"Great. One-stop shopping, then." Lisbon said, dialing Cho's number on her phone. "Cho? Lisbon. James Keating is on the seventh floor of the complex. Apartment 720. Yeah, and ask if he knew his sister's-yeah. Okay." She snapped the phone shut. "While they're doing that, I'm going to my office to get some paperwork done."  
"Wait – you're staying here? Why?" Van Pelt asked quizzically.

"Oh, right, you don't know. I punched the local LEO chief in the jaw so I'm off the crime scene for the day." Lisbon turned and headed off to her office. "Give me a shout if you find anything, Van Pelt," she called over her shoulder.

"That's my boss." Van Pelt muttered, turning back to her work.

-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-

"Nice place." Cho said as James Keating shut the door. "We were just at your sister's and it wasn't half the size."

The apartment was large, about three times the size of an ordinary one. White carpet blanketed the floors, and all the furniture was white and silver. Framed paintings of landscapes hung on the wall.

"You're a mortician, yes?" Jane asked, but it really was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes…at Foothill Farms Hospital, about a quarter mile down the road." Keating replied, eyeing Jane carefully. "How did you know that?"

"People naturally surround themselves with reminders of the things they want, or lack. Your apartment's design favors white, meaning you work in a dark place, probably wearing black, and the landscapes suggest a basement of some sort. Seeing as your quite well off, it's unlikely that you're a miner or construction worker; thus, a morgue." Jane helped himself to a glass of water from a pitcher on the table. "Go on." He said, motioning to Keating.

"As to Sonia's apartment…well, she's been out of work for a year. Had an internship at some police agency a while back, but it wasn't enough to pay her rent. That's why Lynn Marsters was rooming with her."

"Lynn Marsters? Do you know where we can find her?" Rigsby asked, pulling out his phone at a nod from Cho.

"Well, yeah she works at the hospital with me. Just normal shifts, nine to five."  
"Tell us more about her." Cho said, and Keating could hear the suspicion in his voice.

"Lynn? Impossible. If you can find one person to say anything bad about her, I'll eat my tie."

"So your sister never had any trouble with Lynn? None at all?"

"No! They were like sisters. Bonded over the fact that our parents all died when we were young. In fact, just last Saturday, some creep followed Lynn home to hit on her, and Sonia slapped him before slamming the door in his face. They were always looking after each other like that."  
"Boss? Rigsby. The name of the roommate is Lynn Marsters…Foothill Farms Hospital. Yeah, will do." He shut his phone. "The boss wants us to bring Marsters in for questioning."

"What was the creep's name?" Jane asked as he examined a portrait of a Belgian countryside.

"I don't remember…I'll fish through my messages; Sonia called me shortly after the incident, but I was still at work so I didn't check it." Keating looked soberly at a picture of his sister on the table. "Find who did this, okay?"  
"We'll try." Cho replied.

-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-

Lisbon sat at her desk, head in her hands. She really shouldn't have hit her head that hard earlier; it was throbbing now, and getting worse. She felt her eyes slowly slide closed and her chin hit the desk. She was just in between consciousness and sleep when she heard a voice whispering in her ear. Jane's voice.

"Why don't you let me take you back to your place and do to you what you've been begging me with your eyes to do since the day I joined up? If you're lucky, I might be gentle."

Lisbon snapped up so fast that her chair tipped backwards and fell over. She leapt up and looked around her office. No sign of him. She swore and opened the door with a slam.

"Van Pelt, where the hell is he?" Lisbon growled. Van Pelt looked up, practically trembling.

"Where's who?"  
"You damn well know. Jane!"

Van Pelt gave her an odd look. Lisbon's eyes flicked to Jane's couch, then the doorway to the break room. Empty. Oh, boy.

"They're not due back for another 20 minutes, boss." Van Pelt said slowly.

Lisbon was speechless. What the hell was wrong with her? She was absolutely certain that it wasn't a dream; she had felt the breath on her neck, the breezy whisper of his voice in her ear…

"Is…is something wrong, boss?"

Best to grin and bear it, she told herself. She laughed, and Van Pelt relaxed. "It's nothing; must have fallen asleep at my desk; heard Jane mocking me."

Lisbon's phone rang before Van Pelt could ask any more questions, making Lisbon jump.

"Lisbon."

"Boss, we're bringing Lynn Marsters back in for questioning, but that's not all," Cho said. "We've also got the name of the guy who harassed her on Friday."

"Go ahead." Lisbon said, pen and paper in hand.  
"Geoffrey Harrison."

Lisbon dropped the phone, and Van Pelt picked it up as her boss sat down.

"Boss? Lisbon? You there?"  
"Cho, this is Van Pelt. We'll talk when you get here."  
Van Pelt shut the phone, eyeing her boss, who was pale and staring at the floor.

"Impossible," was all Lisbon said. "Simply impossible."


	4. Triggers

**A/N:** Wow, I'm actually a lot more committed to this than I thought I would be. I can hardly believe I'm on the fourth chapter already. After great reviews of the last chapter due to "the whisper", I've decided to devote some of this chapter to letting you know a bit more of what happened, you know, "the night before". Also, I tip my hat to those of you who caught Geoffrey Harrison's reappearance. Sorry that this one is so short; school starts tomorrow and I'm actually sleepy, so I'm going to get some sleep. Insomnia's a switch, if you know what I mean.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned The Mentalist, I'd have marionettes of all the characters strung up in my room so I could make them dance to "The Bird and the Worm" by Owl City whenever I wanted.

-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-

"Geoffrey Harrison's waiting in interrogation, boss. You want Cho to go first?" Rigsby asked as Lisbon poured herself her tenth cup of coffee that morning.

"Yeah; tell him to go ahead. I'll be along to watch in a bit."

Rigsby left the break room, and Lisbon sat at one of the round tables, staring at the steam rising up from her coffee cup. It was obvious that Geoffrey could very well have killed Sonia Keating; Lynn Marsters had made it clear that he was obsessed with Sonia since the first time he saw her. And now, knowing that she had been sitting at a dinner table across from Harrison three days before and couldn't remember any of it? Maybe on the very night that Sonia Keating was murdered? It took her a few minutes to realize that Jane was standing in the doorway.

"Lisbon? What's wrong?" he asked, cheerful yet slightly concerned.

"I was on a blind date on Friday night. With Geoffrey Harrison."  
"I know," he replied, sitting down across from her.  
"But the strange part is that I can't- Wait; what do you mean, you know?"  
" I was there. Well, for part of it. The end part, in the parking lot. You don't remember?"

"We've been through this; the last thing I remember, I was getting in my car and driving to this French place on 38th and Pine."

"Huh." Jane looked at her carefully. "All right, time for Plan B. Get up."

Lisbon raised an eyebrow cautiously. "Why?"

"I may or may not have tried something on you."  
"Well which one is it?"

"Okay, so I did. Come on, stand up."

Lisbon stood, and Jane stepped in closer to look her in the eyes.

"You're right. Something happened on Sunday night, and the only reason I did this was for your own good," he took a deep breath, then continued. "I set in place a few triggers the minute I realized you were acting adverse to usual. Just simple little things, physical or verbal, to jog your memory, like a pat on the shoulder, a tip of your chin-"

"Chin?" she thought back to when she heard the whisper the day before, and remembered that she had hit the desk with her chin just moments before.

"Yeah. Why? Did it work? It was more of an experiment than an actual proven method, so I didn't know."

"It worked all right." She muttered, then said more audibly, "So you think these triggers can help me remember."  
"They're supposed to. Ready to try one?"  
Lisbon sighed. "Well, it's for the case." _Not to mention for me_, she added to herself.

"Close your eyes. Try to clear your head; I'm sure that'll at least be easy enough for you."

Even with her eyes closed, Lisbon still managed to accurately punch him in the shoulder.

"Okay, ,ow. And here I am trying to help you."

"All right, all right, I'm sorry. Can we just get this over with?"

"Control issues." Jane muttered, and before she had a chance to reply with her own snarky remark he reached around and tapped the small of her back three times.

_Suddenly, Lisbon's mind was a flurry of color and movement. She was in Jane's car, with Jane, but everything was fuzzy. Not drunkenly blurry, just…fuzzy. Jane was speaking, so she tried to focus on what he was saying, but somehow her mind kept returning to how good his hair looked at the moment._

"…_so I don't know what happened, but I definitely know he did something to you to impair your judgment. You sure he didn't slip you anything?" Memory Jane asked._

"_Boy, you smell good." Lisbon found herself telling him. Her voice had an odd tone, fluctuating between higher and lower pitches. It was disturbing, really; something wasn't right. She looked down at her hand to see she was holding a cup of coffee, no doubt Memory Jane's attempt at sobering her up. But it wasn't working; she wasn't drunk, anyhow, that much she knew. "Like, really good. Like not as good as Geoffrey good, cause he smelled super good, but you smell kinda like he did…like apples. Really, really fresh, juicy, succulent-"  
"O-kay, I think that's enough caffeine for you." Memory Jane said, snatching the cup from her hand._

"_Apples." She finished with a pout. "And I'm telling you he didn't. I didn't even take my eyes off of him, except for when he knocked my drink over by mistake – see you can still see the stain – and I had to go clean it off."  
"Go? Go where?"  
"Well, the restroom, duh. Geez, Jane for a smart guy you're really stupid sometimes."  
Memory Jane visibly rolled his eyes. "So, Lisbon, while you were gone, did he order you another drink? Something colored darker?"  
"Well, actually, yeah; we were drinking white when I left and red when I got back…I guess I didn't notice."  
"So you wouldn't notice if he put anything in it. Okay, so-"_

"_Jane, shut up. This isn't very romantic. You practically invite yourself my place and all of a sudden you're Quincy or something."_

_Memory Jane sighed. "All right, Lisbon, what do you want to talk about?" he said patiently._

"_Hmm." She said, twirling one of her bracelets around her finger. "Oh, I know! How do you get your hair like that? Do you use gel or- oops!" _

_The bracelet had flown off her finger and onto the floor. As she leaned forward to pick it up, she felt Jane tap her on the back three times._

"Lisbon. Lisbon, come on back." It was the real Jane now. Lisbon opened her eyes.

"So, did it work?" he asked, lowering his head to meet her eyes as they darted to the floor.

"Yeah, I-" she cleared her throat, "I remembered being in your car, talking about Harrison and how he smelled like-"  
"Apples?" Jane finished for her.  
"You remember? So you could have just told me?!?" Lisbon practically shouted, smacking him in the shoulder again.

"Well, yeah, I remember, I was there. But this was a good test to see if it worked. So now we can-"  
"Boss?" Rigsby called into the break room as he rounded the corner at a run. "Cho's having trouble. Apparently Harrison says he won't he talk to anyone but you."

Lisbon flushed. _Of course he would say that_. "All right," she said, taking a deep breath, "Let me have a crack at him." She snatched up her coffee and headed for the door.

"You want me to come?" Jane called.

"No." she replied without missing a step. "Absolutely not."

As soon as he was sure she was gone, Rigsby asked, "What was that about?"

"Oh, nothing. Well, something, but not something too important. Yet. I'll tell you later." Jane replied, heading for interrogation.

"I thought she didn't want you in there." Rigsby shouted after him.

Jane poked his head back around the corner, his a thousand watt smile splayed on his face. "She never said I couldn't watch. This, my friend, is going to be good, and I wouldn't miss it for the world."


	5. Spindly Smile

**A/N:** Chapter five! Wow, this one took a while. Oh, and it's late so if it sucks, sorry. Also, Geoffrey's really hard to work with, especially since it's a total eyesore trying to have Lisbon (who doesn't remember much), Jane (who knows some, that's the annoying part), and Geoffrey (who knows all) in the same room. Wish to GOD I hadn't done that. But, hey, it's a challenge, and I already know how it's gonna end. Which is why I'm encouraging you officially to guess the ending. Here are the rules:  
1) You can enter as many times as you like, except after the second to last chapter is posted. I'll give you a warning that it's coming up.

2) You P.M. me your guess, and if you win you get to commission any fanfiction you want from me in the genres I do. I'd love to write more Mentalist, but I'd need a really good prompt (hint, hint).

3) The parts you're guessing are the killer, who will catch on first that he's or she's the one, who will physically apprehend him, and any other details you want to add. Have fun, and good luck!

**Disclaimer:** I own a class schedule and a stack of books now. Whoopee. But I don't own The Mentalist.

-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-

Lisbon entered the hidden room next to interrogation with Rigsby to find Cho waiting.

"So, what do we know?" Lisbon asked

"We know that he's Geoffrey Harrison and that he'd like a glass of water." Cho replied in his usual deadpanned voice.

Lisbon rolled her eyes and looked at Harrison through the glass. The man was a little taller than average height, with violently styled black hair and piercing blue eyes. He was sitting, steady as a stone, with a thin line of a smile twisted across his face. As if he knew he was winning every second that they made him wait. She felt an unnerving sense of…was it fear? Knowing that he knew something she didn't? Knowing that he must have a dagger hidden somewhere under that devilish cloak? It made her want to foist the job on someone else, to run back to the comfort of her office. But her team was watching, and she had to do something about him.

"I'm going in."

Lisbon opened the door, walked straight to the table without missing a beat, and sat down across from Geoffrey Harrison.

"So, Mr. Harrison," she began, "We've been informed that you were following Sonia Keating home from her work for nearly two weeks."

Harrison said nothing. He simply kept staring at her, his spindly smile still painted on his face.

"It was attested by Lynn Marsters. You know her?"

Silence. Lisbon looked at him, letting all her frustration seep into an intimidating glare that she focused into his eyes.

"Mr. Harrison, I was led to believe that if I were to speak with you, you would cooperate. But if your silence is meant to mean that you're waiting for a lawyer, then I'm leaving. And I won't be back."

She stood to leave, and had turned all the way away from him, before-

"I'm not waiting for a lawyer."

In that instant, Lisbon got the chills. She remembered the voice; before, she had found it attractive, musical even, but now it was a reminder of her defeat, of her loss of control over her own memory, and she nearly shuddered. But she wouldn't let it show. She turned and sat back down.

"Then what do you want, Harrison?"  
"I'm waiting for you, Teresa," he let her name slide off his lips slowly, savoring each syllable, "To call me by my proper name. We're friends, aren't we? Oh, and I'm still waiting on that glass of water." He added, drumming his fingers on the table as if he'd sat in interrogation a hundred times. Rigsby and Cho looked at each other in the side room. _Friends? What was he talking about?_ Jane entered and caught their nervous glances.

"Oh, no, I'm late. What'd I miss?" he asked, before Rigsby shushed him.

"It's Agent Lisbon, Harrison, and as soon as we find out whether or not you killed Sonia Keating you can go get your damn water elsewhere."

Harrison laughed. "Sonia's dead? Well, serves her right. She shouldn't have been cheating on me anyhow."  
"Explain."  
"We went out a couple of times, but suddenly she didn't want to see me anymore. Figured she was just being coy, so I followed her back to her apartment on Thursday where her roommate smashed a vase over my head. I got the message after that; stayed in my apartment for the next two days."

"Doing what?"

"Sleeping off the head wound, drinking, watching black and white movies, that sort of thing. I got people you can talk to if you need witnesses."  
"And you haven't seen Sonia or Lynn since?"

"No, _Agent Lisbon_; the last time I left my house was on Sunday: a blind date with a beautiful woman who I'm sure would be able to attest to that fact."

"Nice try. You're not getting a rise out of me. So you're trying to tell me that you didn't kill Sonia?"

"No. I didn't kill Sonia." Geoffrey leaned in, a glint in his eye. "Now, about our second date-"

"Yeah, right; forget it." Lisbon picked up his file and tucked it under her arm as she stood to leave. "We're keeping you here on harassment charges, so get comfortable."

"I know one way to do that." He smirked at her, his eyes flicking down her body, then up again and back to her eyes. "Just one."

It was extremely hard for her not to deck him right there. But she had promised Mineli, no more hitting, even creeps like this.

"You're pathetic." Lisbon flung the door open, about to stride out, when-

"You know, it's strange that Lynn Marsters couldn't remember my name. Or even what I look like until you showed her my picture. Memory loss like that…it's kind of uncommon, isn't it?"

Lisbon turned slowly back around. He was toying with her; it was obvious from the grin on his face. He reminded her of a hungry shark that had just trapped its dinner. And she refused to be the small fish in the big pond this time around. She slammed her hands on the table in front of him, making even him jump. She left her voice at just above a whisper so that Rigsby and Cho would be unable to hear.

"I _know_ you did something to me, Geoffrey, and believe me, the minute this case is solved I will have your ass back in this chair for questioning. So you can either tell me now, or we can wait until I'm even more pissed off and far less patient."

He leaned in. "You don't scare me, Teresa. Not a bit." And then he did the unthinkable. He kissed her.

Lisbon leapt away from him, shaking in anger, but before she had a chance to react Jane entered and pulled her away from him. Lisbon fought against him holding her back for a second, but she knew he was right. Geoffrey sat, laughing silently at her with his eyes, and she grit her teeth.

"Let me handle this." Jane said, his voice calm and commanding all at once.

"But-"

"Trust me."

So she left, with one last glare at Geoffrey, who waved his handcuffed fingers in response, the spindly grin taunting her with its cheerfulness. As the door shut, he started on Jane.

"God, I hope she comes to visit me again. I really do like her. Great legs."

Jane's mind was instantly analyzing the man: every word, every movement, every grin, and he realized the only way to get anything out of him was to become his friend.

"I know, right? Very pretty. Hot temper, but she's even more attractive when she's ticked." Jane replied, flashing a scandalous grin and winking at Geoffrey. Geoffrey laughed, and Jane thought he was in the clear, until Geoffrey stopped abruptly and rolled his eyes.

"Do you honestly think I'm stupid? I remember Sunday night, even if she can't. I remember you were there. The gentleman. Sort of." Geoffrey added, smirking. "You ruined my night. I was practically in the end zone…and you just had to whisk her away to safety. It's very rude to do that, you know?"

"So is coercion."  
"It wasn't coercion and you know it. And last time I checked, seduction wasn't illegal."

"You're right, it's not. But, come on, you obviously slipped her something." Jane looked knowingly at him. "I know you did, because she remembers you changing up the drinks after you knocked hers over. Admit it; you drugged her."  
"Why? Because she was all set to go home with me until you showed up? And why does that matter so much to-", Geoffrey cut himself off; it had dawned on him. "Wait, wait, wait- you two didn't!" he began to laugh, endlessly, and Jane stood sullenly and left. The man was clearly a lunatic, and if he stayed he'd kill Harrison with his own bare hands. On his way out, he punched the wall leading back into the bullpen, leaving the stamp of his disapproval in red on the concrete.

-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-

The reason you're getting this chapter so late is that my muse struck me with a poem, and I couldn't write the chapter until I finished. Since it's the cause of the delay, I thought you might like to see it. Left column first, then right; just trying to save space. Feel free to review it.

Of Writers

We can make a breath feel sharp and ragged,

A fire icy cold,

Can fix dull knives to make them jagged,

And turn lead into gold.

We can make rain fall in torrents down

And thunder strike the open ground,

If that's what needs be told.

We're soldiers in an endless battle,

With inkpens for our swords,

Protecting what seem to be cattle,

With Muses as our lords.

And then the oxen are revealed,

As wealth, in bovine skin concealed,

If we can guide the hordes.

We're whispered in the midnight hours

That we do know their names:

Sensation, Guilt, and Fear, and Power

Seduction, Joy, and Shame.

We rearrange these (and their kind)

'Till to a sheaf they are confined;

Assembled, tied, and tamed.

And when a hundred sheaves are joined

In alabaster chains,

Then suddenly those oxen have

Their value ascertained,

And now are stallions, cantering on

And forward, till the final dawn,

_For they cannot be slain._

So politicians with your posts,

And monarchs with your crowns,

Those men you found you fear the most,

That thing you tried to drown,

We're rising, in an order tall,

Relentless as a marching call,

And we will not back down.

We're now as timeless as the sea,

As fiery as the sun,

And we will forth and always be

A mighty wave, and one,

For we have so done in the past,

And clearly are designed to last

Until the world is done,

And heaven calls us home


	6. The Serpent

**A/N:** Oh, God I'm tired. My Performing Arts Department roped me into doing a mock audition for all the freshmen today, and they just gave me the music and monologue yesterday. Theatre people, you know what I'm talking about. Not to mention I'm a three-quarter blooded techie. I sing in the Honor Choir at my school, and I play guitar and sing at home, but I hardly ever do the shows 'cause I can't dance. I can act though, so I do the straight plays at my school. And while I'm rambling, I write music. If anyone's interested in hearing any, I can try and get some up on YouTube or something.

**Disclaimer: **I wish I did, but I don't own Simon Ba- I mean The Mentalist.

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Lisbon, Rigsby, Cho, Van Pelt, and Jane sat around the bullpen for their standard team meeting. The mood that hung in the air was downright depressing, and there was little to be done. Except, of course, to solve the case and get Geoffrey Harrison as far away from Lisbon and Jane as possible, preferably behind bars.

"Okay," Lisbon began, standing at the green chalkboard that she had resurrected specifically for this case; with Jane's intuition and skill they hadn't had much need for it, but this case had too many twisted loose ends for rational thinking. "Let's start with Sonia Keating."

Van Pelt was relieved to see her boss acting normally. Despite the fact that the creeper currently sitting in a holding cell had practically assaulted her, Lisbon seemed to be back to her usual self, and even Jane was joking around like he always did. All it had taken was half an hour's drive for Lisbon and a cup of solitary tea for Jane…Van Pelt wondered what her boss had done in her absence…nothing in particular came to mind…

"Don't you think, Van Pelt?" Lisbon asked, drawing a line between Geoffrey and Sonia's names.

"Sorry, boss, what?" Van Pelt snapped out of her thoughts, focusing intently on the board to try to figure out what was going on.

"Geoffrey and Sonia. That they were seeing each other before he followed her home. You know, that he was telling the truth? All signs point to it."

Van Pelt nodded. Jane smiled from his couch.  
"I wonder too, Van Pelt." He muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. She flushed.

"And Lynn Marsters?" Lisbon asked to the group in general, writing her name on the board.

"Maybe she's faking amnesia to protect herself." Cho wagered

"Or someone else." Rigsby added.

"All right, Van Pelt, Rigsby, bring Lynn in. Cho, why don't you check out Geoffrey's apartment? And take Jane with you; bring back anything that looks suspicious. I'll work on a warrant."

They all parted ways and Lisbon sat in a chair in front of the board. She racked her mind, trying to remember something, anything that would help solve the mystery of Sonia Keating's death. She was so focused that she didn't know Jane was behind her until she felt his hands on her forearms, pressing them into the arms of the chair. She turned to snap at him, but he squeezed the left, then the right, and suddenly her mind was like before…

_Except that this time she was in a parking lot with Geoffrey, who was talking about his job at the television studio on 33__rd__ street composing theme songs. _

"_But don't get me wrong. I'm no jingle man. I only write what comes to me; only the music that beats with the passion of everyday life."_

"_So…what, then, Full House?"_

_Memory Geoffrey laughed, and Lisbon's heart melted at the sound. He smiled at her warmly, then leaned in and kissed her. She almost shuddered, knowing that this was the creep who had just kissed her in interrogation an hour ago, but it was…comforting to Lisbon to have someone in her arms, to be in someone's arms. Maybe it was the wine from dinner talking but it was the most perfect thing in the world to be able to shed the badge and the work ethic for a few hours and just be-_

"_Teresa…" he murmured. "Let me drive you home, hm?"_

_She felt the cogs in her mind turn, considering. And surprisingly, she found her mind saying yes. Lisbon knit her brow; what was wrong with her? It was not only impractical; it was completely against her very own rules. NEVER on the first date, Lisbon's rule number two. But this was all a memory, and her mouth was already forming the words, "Why not?" before she could stop herself. Geoffrey smiled, and this time it felt more like a wolf looking at his dinner than before. _

"_How about because she has work tomorrow and if she leaves her car here she'll be late come morning?"  
Geoffrey's smiling face turned into a cold glare._

"_Who the hell are you?" he growled.  
Lisbon turned around to look at the speaker. She didn't need the answer.  
"Oh, sorry, how terribly rude of me; I'm Patrick Jane." Memory Jane said, extending his hand to shake Geoffrey's. He didn't take it, just glared at it and put his hands on Lisbon's shoulders._

"_Well, Patrick Jane, I don't think we need any parenting from you, thanks. Come on, Teresa, let's go."_

_Geoffrey tried to turn her towards his black BMW, but Jane caught her with his eyes before he could._

"_If you're late, Mineli will have your pay docked, you know that," he said, and then as Geoffrey turned to swear at his watch, he whispered, "You're the one who called me with the 911; what the hell are you doing?"_

_Lisbon smiled at him cheekily; things were getting as blurry as in her last flashback. She found herself slurring, "Come on, what harm could it do? So I lose a few bucks; maybe it'll be worth it."_

"_Lisbon, I don't think that's such-"_

"_Look, buddy, back off! She said she doesn't want your advice, so just clear out, okay?" Geoffrey shoved Jane a few feet back. Jane was not amused._

"_Look, you pathetic leech, just because you haven't been loved by anyone since the day your mother bore you out of wedlock doesn't mean you can go around seducing every woman who strikes your sadistic little fancy. Especially not my coworkers."_

_Geoffrey looked too shocked and angry to react. When he did speak, Lisbon recognized the sadistic tone in his voice now; he was no charmer, he was the serpent._

"_You bastard! I don't have to take this from you!" Geoffrey pulled back his arm to throw a punch which Jane dodged easily and countered with one of his own. Geoffrey staggered back against his car, his nose gushing blood. Jane shook out his hand and grabbed Lisbon by the arm and she immediately started protesting in the same dazed way she had in the other memory. He silenced her with a firm clench of his hand around her left forearm._

"_Come on. We're going." He led her to his car. "Don't argue."_

_Lisbon turned to take one last look at Geoffrey. He was pulling out a thick brown notebook with "Journal" embossed in silver on the cover._

_And as they reached his Citroen, Jane squeezed her right arm as well._

Lisbon snapped back into the real world at the slam of a door. Jane was gone, but now she had a lead to give them. She called Cho.

"Cho? Yeah. Geoffrey Harrison keeps a journal. Brown, with silver writing on the cover. Bag and tag it, yeah. Good."

She hung up, called Mineli to get an official warrant for Geoffrey's journal, and then laid down on Jane's couch for a much needed rest

-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-

I've been reading over the chapters that Geoffrey is mentioned/appears in, and I feel from it that I've given the wrong idea. I'll try my best to amend in textually, but just in case I don't I want to make the concept for his character much more clear. He's drop dead gorgeous, but there's something sinister about him that you can sense. He can mask this if he really wants to, but most of the time he just doesn't care, and it's a part of his appeal. For example, think of Rufus Sewell (Adamar if you're a Knight's Tale fan like me, or Dark City which is more accurate); I've posted a picture but I don't know if fanfiction will allow it in the document. If it doesn't, it'll be on my profile under today's date.


	7. Nemosyne

**A/N:** My God, reviews are like crack: the more I get, the more I want to write of this story. I check, like, three times a day to see if I have any new ones, even when I haven't posted a new chapter. Pathetic, yes, I know.

Anywho, I want to send a shoutout to someone; trouble is, I can't remember who. Somebody wrote a Mentalist fanfic where Lisbon shouted "fuck" because the writer said that hearing Robin Tunney say it in a movie called "The Craft" was awesome. So, naturally, the other day I looked it up. Found the whole thing on YouTube; lucky me. Well, whoever made the inadvertent recommendation, my eternal kudos; that was an AWESOME movie. The end with all the bugs and stuff was creepy (it was two AM, so I skipped through that part) but seeing young Tunney was seriously cool. I even screencapped a part where she's wearing the same raised-eyebrow smirk that she does in The Mentalist; I'll post a comparison picture somewhere and give you the link.

Habeous Corpus, the mock audition went great; everyone thought the good was actually good and then the bad one I did for an example was hilarious. PhoenixWytch, that's an interesting question; I know that the serpent will strike again, maybe fatally, but who will get to "cut off its head" is still up in the air. To everyone, please excuse my creepiness in this chapter; it had to be first person and I tapped into every instance of serial killer I've ever seen for inspiration. Confused? You'll see…Also, Nemosyne is pronounced Nuh-maw-seh-knee.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned The Mentalist, Lisbon's middle name would be Sarah and she would be able to levitate Jane off his couch by muttering "light as a feather, stiff as a board".

-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-

Cho and Jane arrived at Geoffrey's apartment, about fifteen minutes from headquarters, and were not at all to find that he lived in a slightly run down tenement building. The apartment itself was none too impressive; a main room with a futon that pulled out to form a bed, a bathroom off to the side, and a separate kitchen area. They were surprised however, to find the place completely spotless, except for the kitchen, which looked like it had just performed a modern day rendition of feeding the 5000.

"Okay, he's definitely hiding something here." Jane said, digging around in the kitchen while Cho searched through the armoires and drawers in the main room.

"Why do you say that?"  
"Well, his house is completely clean. Obviously, he's done something (or things, perhaps) suspicious and has had to clean up after himself. He didn't bother with the kitchen, though, because finding knives and such there is commonplace- aha!" Jane ended with a triumphant laugh, waving the brown notebook for Cho to see.

"Where was it?"

Jane opened the drawer all the way to show a random assortment of twines and ropes.

"Under these."

"What does he need all this rope for?" Cho asked, picking up a handful, "There must be a hundred different kinds in here."

"Strangling the girl who snubbed him, perhaps?"

They threw all the rope into a bag with a knife they found in the bottom of the same drawer. On the way back to headquarters, Jane cracked open the journal.  
"You really shouldn't be-"

"Messing with logged evidence, yada, yada, yada, I know. Come on, what harm could it do to take a peek?"

He flipped to the entries from the past week. They were dated, but only with the day of the week. Jane marveled that the thoughts themselves were convoluted, but that the spelling and grammar revealed careful, sane writing.

_Monday_

_God, she's pretty. And she keeps ignoring me. Always, always, always ignoring me. And I just stare at her. She's pretty. And her name…it just rolls right off the tongue…Madelynn Marsters, Madelynn Marsters, Madelynn Marsters…killer legs, too. But she keeps ignoring me. I don't know why she won't sleep with me anymore. Best lay I've ever had. Ever, ever, ever, ever, ever had. And she won't even talk to me. Maybe she's still mad that I slept with that other girl. But that wasn't my fault; she came onto me! That's how I found out about Nemosyne…beautiful, beautiful, beautiful Nemosyne. Still hazy, that night, but she let me buy enough of it to make me a regular Casanova._

_Wednesday_

_Damn. Damn. Damn. I really screwed up with Lynn. She got me really mad and I started telling her things I shouldn't. Bad things. So I had to use it on her. And too much. Almost an overdose. Almost. She doesn't remember me at all. Convinced her I was a secretarial assistant at the hospital. Oh, well, screw her. I've got my eyes on her roommate now. Sonia Keating. So-ni-a. Beautiful name. Killer legs, too. We're going on a date tonight, to the French restaurant on 38__th__ and Pine. Their coq-au-vin is absolutely marvelous. Maybe I'll get lucky with this one._

_Saturday_

_I need a psychic or something, 'cause my luck is utter crap these days. Sonia's been dating me for all of three days and suddenly she dumps me. And she was better than Lynn. Can't have that. I followed her home today, and Lynn punched me in the jaw. I almost cut her right there, but can't have that. Can't have that. I'll have Sonia later. I will. I will._

_Sunday_

_Found a new one today. And, hell, is she pretty. We're going to dinner at Le Bon Fils tonight, and I can't wait to get her home. I'll even pull the Nemosyne if I have to. I can't control myself. Maybe it's that I'm literally flirting with danger, her being a cop and all, with everything I've done. But she's got killer legs, and you know I can't resist that. And her eyes…mmm, you're mine, Teresa Lisbon._

_Monday_

_I'll kill him. I'll kill Patrick Jane. I'll absolutely murder him. Tear his heart out with my bare hands and string him up for the world to see. He took her! He took her from me! I had her! She was all set to go home with me, and he showed up and took her away! Oh, I'll kill him. The minute I get a chance, he's dead. Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead…_

Jane swallowed. Oh, no.

"What's up? Find anything?" Cho asked as they pulled into the CBI lot.

Jane nodded, put the journal back in its evidence bag, and handed it to him. Cho paled; the first time Jane had ever seen it.

"That bad, huh?"

"That bad." Jane replied


	8. Normal Witnesses, Maybe?

A/N: Chocolate pop tarts are delicious. Very gratifying. Anywho, this should be an exciting twig of a chapter (again, sorry; I'll explain in a bit) chapter, and it's VanRigsby "if you squint", as they say. Why? Well, it's a sad day when you're eight chapters in and still have not added "Rigsby" to the dictionary on Word when Lisbon was in there on day one. Also, I did the tech interview for my school's show today (which is why I haven't been writing as much); wish me luck! I find out tomorrow.

P.S. Anyone else finding Fanfiction a little slow today? All my other sites are quick as jackrabbits.

Disclaimer: I do now own this Bakerland, I do not own it, Sam-I-Am.

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It took Van Pelt and Rigsby a while to track Lynn Marsters down. Van Pelt eventually discovered that Lynn was at her aunt's house, about 2 hours away from Foothill Farms, and they were soon en route with Rigsby driving and Van Pelt holding the map. They surprisingly did not get lost, finding that Van Pelt's simple, straightforward directions complimented Rigsby's excellent reflexes and hand-eye coordination. They even managed to shave half an hour off of the predicted journey, and soon were knocking on Caroline Marsters door in search of her niece. The aunt, it turned out, wasn't home, and Lynn herself answered the door.  
"Agent Rigsby, this is Agent Van Pelt. We're gonna need to bring you in for a few questions, Miss Marsters." Rigsby said, showing his badge.

"Questions about what?" Lynn asked, tilting her head and looking confused.

"Sonia Keating's murder." Van Pelt replied, trying her best to be gentle, but finding it difficult as Lynn replied, "Never heard of her. You sure you got the right person?"

Rigsby pulled out a photo they had found in the apartment of the pair together.

"This is of you and her two days before the murder."  
Lynn looked at the photo, then at the two agents.

"Look, just come in for a few hours, and we'll clear everything up, okay?" Van Pelt said, gesturing to the car.

"Okay…let me grab a jacket." Lynn murmured, and she exited with a slight reel.

"Something's not right." Rigsby whispered. They heard a loud thump.

"You think?" Van Pelt replied, drawing her weapon. He followed suit, and they entered to find Marsters, passed out on the floor for no apparent reason.

"Couldn't we ever just have a normal, I-killed-so-&-so here are my perfectly healthy witnesses kind of case?" Van Pelt asked while holstering her weapon and lifting the girl's arms as Rigsby took her feet.

"They do call us the Special Crimes Unit for a reason." He chuckled back, and Van Pelt rolled her eyes.

-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-

"And she passed out? Just like that?" Lisbon asked incredulously.  
"Just like that. It was really weird; one minute she was perfectly normal and the next she hit the floor. We bagged everything in a two foot radius around her, just in case; she didn't have time to go further into the house than that." Van Pelt replied

"Unbelievable. Should have just called us the Crap Witness Unit, apparently." Cho muttered, frustrated to have to do _more_ interrogations with memory impaired people. "After all, where there's one, there's usually two."

"Have we looked into the girl that Geoffrey - I mean, Harrison, didn't mention by name in his journal?" Lisbon asked Cho, who had raised an eyebrow. "Sue me; the guy practically brainwashed me." She said, exasperated.

"I ran a check for anyone pumping illegal unnamed drugs and all I got was a guy by the name of Johnny Scythe." Van Pelt said, handing Lisbon a very short fact sheet.

"Scythe? Really?" Lisbon smirked as Jane rounded the corner with a cardboard tray of coffee.

"What's that? We got a lead?" Jane asked, handing coffee off to each member of the team. Lisbon handed him the sheet and grabbed the keys to the SUV from off of Cho's desk.

"All right, good, I'll come too. Ah, will you-" he asked, holding the sheet to Lisbon as well as the coffee. She took the coffee and before she knew it Jane had tricked her into exchanging the car keys for Scythe's sheet. He laughed, and she rolled her eyes. No way was she letting him drive.

"Cho, Rigsby have a chat with Marsters and see what she knows. If you think she's faking, call Jane."

Lisbon headed to the elevator, and Jane leaned over to whisper something in Van Pelt's ear. As he joined Lisbon at the elevator she raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Hm? Oh, nothing. Sort of. You'll see." Jane said with a smile as the elevator dinged. "You're not jealous, are you?"

Lisbon flushed and brushed past him through the open doors. As she did, he laid his hand on the small of her back and lightly pressed his fingertips through her shirt. It was all she could do to not show how weak kneed it made her. Instead she swatted his hand away and, in one swift motion, cuffed it to the handicapped rail in the elevator. Having handled that, she removed the SUV keys from his left pocket and jingled them in his face. The doors dinged again as they reached the ground floor.  
"Very funny." Jane laughed. She smiled sweetly, and then exited the elevator, leaving him there.

"Lisbon? Hey, Lisbon!" he shouted, pulling on his wrist.  
"Left pocket!" she shouted back, and sure enough, there was the key. Jane grinned.

"Who's the carnie now!" he called, uncuffing himself.

By the time they reached the trailer park where Johnny Scythe supposedly lived, the key had somehow worked its way into her inside jacket pocket; Lisbon never found out how.


	9. Apples and Cigarettes

**A/N:** Please write reviews. I'm really stuck and reading them helps me out; I didn't even notice I'd made a timeline error until someone pointed it out on the review board. SO PLEASE review. That little green button. Right at the bottom there. Thanks. Also, this chapter may suck because it's one in the morning and I wrote the first half two days ago. Eh, writer's block. I've decided that there will be 13 total chapters, and have written the last two. You can officially guess the murderer now, or you can wait. Keep in mind that I won't accept guesses after Chapter 12 is posted. PM me though; no cheating allowed!

**Disclaimer: **I own the title of ASM for my school's fall production of Meet Me In St. Louis, but not The Mentalist. (If you're interested in seeing it, are free in November and live in Maryland, PM me and I'll give you details as to when the show is.)

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"I'm telling you the truth; I've never seen her before in my life!"

Despite their best efforts, Cho and Rigsby couldn't make heads or tails of Lynn Marsters. It appeared as if she really did have some sort of amnesia, as not even the poker faced accusations Cho threw at her could shake her up. Rigsby leaned against the wall, trying not to look as frustrated as he was, while Cho took a deep breath and tried a new tactic.

"Just tell us everything you remember from the last few days."

Lynn closed her eyes. "Okay…Saturday is the last day that I really clearly remember. Is that okay to start?"

"Just fine."

"Well, Sonia was seeing this guy…um, you guys said his name was Geoffrey? Well, he followed her home, I guess, and she got really mad for some reason and didn't want to see him. So I answered the door instead. And the guy came on to me! Said that I 'had to remember what we had', and then some, and, well, I was so confused, and he was so creepy that I hit him, just to shut him up. He left after that, and I haven't seen him since."

"And where did you go after?"

"Well, Sonia wanted to be alone so I went to my aunt's."

"That's all you remember?"

"Yeah, I think so." She knit her brow, obviously trying to remember something. "If it helps…on those days that are fuzzy? I went somewhere…with someone that smelled like apples… "

Van Pelt entered and motioned to Rigsby before murmuring something to him. She left shortly after, and he resumed his spot by the two way mirror.

"What's your relationship with James Keating, Ms. Marsters?"

Lynn blushed. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"His sister's the victim, so a lot." Cho quipped, poker faced.

"He and I have been…sort of seeing each other. Since last Monday. But he's not the committed type, so it's not real exclusive."

"And how did Sonia feel about that?"  
"Oh, she didn't know. James felt uncomfortable telling his sister, so he made me promise not to."

Cho sighed. "All right, thanks. You're free to go, but don't leave town."

"Yeah. If I remember anything?"  
Cho handed her a card with some contact information, and she put it in her purse and left.

"Just great," Rigsby said, crossing his arms as he and Cho headed back to the bullpen.

"How'd it go?" Van Pelt asked.

"Let's just hope the boss and Jane are having better luck with the druggies." Cho replied. Van Pelt cringed. Luck with druggies? Impossible.

-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-

"Look, lady, I don't know what you're talking about."  
"I haven't even asked you any questions yet!" Lisbon shouted, exasperated. Fifteenth person off the street, er, trailer park, and no one could tell them anything about a drug vendor by the name of Scythe. Lisbon whirled around as Jane 'ahemed' softly. She rolled her eyes.

"Fine. But if you get busted I'm not taking the heat for you."

"Deal."

Jane walked briskly up to an attractive young woman and extended his hand. She took it without a thought, and instead of shaking it he grabbed her wrist and swiveled it up so that she was staring at her hand. After muttering a few words that Lisbon couldn't make out, he waved his hand in between her now sleepy looking eyes and her palm. Her head drooped forward until it was leaning against his shoulder.

"Where's Scythe? I need some sleeping pills, and I hear he's the one to get 'em from."

"Mmm, not a he." The girl replied, her voice lucid and relaxed.

"No?" Jane replied, glancing at Lisbon who had pulled out her notepad.

"No. She. Trailer with a blue stripe, plate M7A-S13, usually in space 68."

"Thank you. Oh, and your boyfriend isn't cheating on you. He's working overtime so he can make some extra cash. For a ring."

The girl sighed. Jane tapped her on the shoulder and murmured again, and she snapped out of the trance and looked at him quizzically, shrugged with a smile, then walked away. Jane returned to Lisbon.

"You get all that?"

"Yeah. What did you do to her?"  
"Handshake style induction. I interrupted an automatic motion to disrupt the critical factor in her mind and slip my way into her subconscious, thereby-"

Lisbon waved his words into a dead halt. "Whatever. Crazy hypnotist stuff, I get it. Let's go."

-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-

They easily found the trailer in question, and the woman who answered the door fit her name. She had short, choppy black hair and enough black make up to make Ozzy Osbourne blush.

"Whaddaya want?" she asked, lighting a cigarette with a lighter shaped like a handgun.

"CBI. We've got a few questions for you, Ms. Scythe."

She let out a laugh. "Yeah, why the hell not. Come on in. And my name's Tara Downs. Scythe is just for the masses; keeps the hounds at bay, as it were."

Lisbon and Jane entered the trailer, which was an orderly mess: several areas were completely clean, like the table and countertops, but the side room with the bed was a disaster. Downs still held the box of cigarettes in her hand as she cleared off a pair of seats for them.

"May I?" Jane asked, indicating the box.

She handed him one and expertly lit it for him. Lisbon looked at him, shocked, as Downs carried a handful of odd clothing items and magazines into the bedroom.

"You smoke?"

"Establishing a rapport. We're on thin ice here."  
"What do you mean?"

"Well, clearly, she's got a gun, and knows how to use it. Top left drawer next to the oven."

Lisbon rolled her eyes, but checked nonetheless. Sitting inside was, indeed, a Sig Sauer. Loaded, but never used, by the look of it. She shut the drawer just before Downs returned.

"Now, what's this all about?"

"Ms. Downs, we have reason to believe that you've been selling recreational drugs to a potential homicide suspect." Lisbon said, having a seat. Jane kept his eyes on the woman's face, checking for guilt.

"Well, sure. I sell to a lot of people. Who we talking about here?"  
"Geoffrey Harrison."  
Downs took a long, deep drag from her cigarette. "Now that is a fine man. Not fine as in knight in shining armor, but boy, does he know how to sweep a girl off her feet. Yeah, I sold him an anesthetic my brother Johnny picked up in Cyprus. Technically, it's not illegal here yet, since it's a medical drug. Geoffrey said he needed it for work."  
"At the hospital, correct?" Jane asked, having a seat next to Lisbon as he looked with a curious smile at Downs.

"Yeah. How'd you know that?" Jane didn't respond, so she continued. "Anyway, he said there was a patient who was allergic to most anesthesia and needed another option, so I sold him…oh, about fifty doses. Just in case."  
"Isn't that a bit much? And pricey, too?" Lisbon asked, taking notes.

"Well," Downs laughed, "He wasn't in total control of his actions at the time. He insisted on trying the product himself before he purchased any, and he got so wasted by it that he asked for that many."

"Was that before or after you had sex?" Jane asked. Downs raised an eyebrow.

"Before. Poor boy didn't know what hit him, and it was all too easy to convince him to move the business to my room. That's part of the side effects; you lose not only your judgment, but most memory of what you're doing at the time. If you're going to open a door and you're drugged, you'll go take a nap instead, if you're feeling tired, that is."  
"Name of the drug?"

"Nemosyne. After the Greek-"  
"Goddess of memory." Jane finished for her. "Ironic."

"How much did you make selling it to him?" Lisbon asked Downs, flipping the page over and scribbling down every word.

"Well, it's valued at a hundred and fifty dollars a dose, but I cut him a break and took a hundred per." Downs waved her hand at Lisbon. "This can't be about a drug charge or you'd have arrested me the minute I confessed to selling it to him. What happened?"  
"A girl was found dead with ties to him."  
"Lynn Marsters?"  
"No, her roommate. How do you know Marsters?"  
"He mentioned her when he came around. It's the reason he wanted Nemosyne, you know, to seduce her. She'd stopped seeing him and he wanted her back." She tapped her cigarette into an ashtray on the table shaped like a spade. "From what he said, though, she's a real whack job. I'd keep an eye on her if I were you."

As they were leaving, Lisbon gave her card to Downs and told her to call her if she thought of anything else. Lisbon headed for the car, but Downs stopped Jane in the doorway.

"Look, if you'd like some Nem, off the books, I could slip you one or two doses on the house…you've got some seriously unresolved tension with your partner there, and it ain't just friendly. How about it?"

Jane almost looked as if he considered it, but then shook his head. "Nah. But thanks for the offer. Very kind of you. And much obliged for the cigarette."  
As he turned and walked away, Downs called out, "Don't be a stranger," and Jane turned and waved.

He reached the car to see Lisbon smirking at him.

"Well, she was quite taken with you. What was she asking you, to spend the night?"  
"Not with her." Jane muttered.

"What was that?"  
"Oh, nothing. Besides, I couldn't…no, not her."  
"Why not?" This ought to be good, Lisbon thought.

Jane looked at her, and said quite seriously, "Smoking gun lighters went out with the eighties."

Lisbon laughed as they got into the car.

"Besides, I hate smoking." Jane said, pretending to cough up a lung before Lisbon whacked him on the nose with a water bottle which he pretended to be mortally wounded by before taking a much needed swig and changing the subject.


	10. Author's Note

Hey there, people! It's been forever since I've updated, so I'm thinking I owe you an explanation of some sort.

I'm a senior in high school, so things have been a little crazy since school started, especially since I'm a stage manager for my school's fall production. Not only that, but I haven't been sleeping right so I pretty much hit the hay the minute my homework's done.

I have a half day on Friday though, which means I don't have rehearsal AND I get home early, so I think I'm going to write my next chapter then. Once I write chapter 10, it's all a cakewalk because 11 is really easy and I have 12 and 13 already written.

Please bear with me during this temporary hiatus! It's only a couple of days more, and then I'll be back on track. I promise that it'll be worth it; don't forget to guess the killer!

Andante appassionato,

~The Septillionaire

P.S. Sorry if your story alerter psyched you out and made you think I'd actually gotten off of my lazy butt and updated.


	11. Liars and Loose Ends

**A/N:** I humble beg your forgiveness for taking so long. Tonight I'm posting everything though, so three more chapters to come. Should be about a half hour wait in between each for polishing. Thanks for bearing with me! I love to think of Van Pelt and Jane as an odd sort of relationship; there's no attraction of course, but he knows how to push all her buttons. Played with that a little here.

**Disclaimer:** *insert snappy denial of ownership here*

-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-

"I don't care _how_ important it is, **sir**, I'm not meeting Geoffrey Harrison after all he's-"

Lisbon's team sat quietly in the bullpen as sparks flew in Lisbon's office between their fearless leader and Minelli.

"And I don't care who the informant is! If he says he's got a lead, you follow up! No matter the conditions!"

"But, sir! He said I had to go alone, and that is nowhere _near_ protocol-"

"Which is why I'm sure his information's credible." He silenced any further protests with a very forceful raising of his hand. "No buts. You're the one who's always claiming that it's important to tie up loose ends, so you follow up this tip yourself, Lisbon, or I'll have your badge."

Lisbon bit her lip as he left, forcing herself to stay silent and not shout unthinkable obscenities against her boss. Her career had taken too long for her to build to let it be taken away by a wretch like Geoffrey Harrison. But the bottom line was that she was afraid of him. In the big pond she swam in, he was a shark: see red, kill dead. No rules, except the laws of nature. She shivered involuntarily; thinking what would have happened if Jane hadn't showed up that night was worse than wondering about the morning after. Passing a recently polished mirror, Lisbon caught sight of her reflection. She studied her eyes, the cross hanging around her neck, and the professional collared shirt under her black jacket. This was her, Teresa Lisbon, and no man, not Virgil Mineli, nor Geoffrey Harrison, nor even the cunning Patrick Jane, was going to make her doubt herself. Drugs be damned.

-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-

The bullpen was still silent when she entered. She cleared her throat to get her team's attention and was rewarded with three pairs of eyes (the fourth was feigning sleep on a brown leather couch) for her effort.

"I'm going to meet with Harrison; construct a final timeline including Tara Downs' information while I'm gone."  
"You don't want one of us to come, boss?" Rigsby asked, slightly confused. It was unusual for Lisbon to decide to go check on a lead by herself. Lisbon scowled, and he cringed expecting the worse. She, however, took a deep breath and sighed. No use getting mad at Rigsby over something he had no control over.

"It's not my decision. Just stay here and get something done."

She headed for the door, and out of the corner of her eye could see Jane move to get off the couch.

"I said stay here." Lisbon said, turning to face him. He raised an eyebrow.

"Come now, Lisbon, you really don't think I'd let you go alone, do you?"

Lisbon reached into his front pocket pulled out his consultant pass while pulling out her badge.

"Jane, what's the difference between these two methods of identification?"  
"Yours is sparkly?" he joked, but then frowned when he saw she was serious.

"No. Mine makes me the boss. And the boss says stay put."

"Duly noted." He held out his hand for his pass, but Lisbon handed it to Van Pelt instead. Jane shrugged and flopped back on his couch.

"Make sure he doesn't go anywhere by himself." Lisbon ordered, rolling her eyes.

"Yes ma'am."

Fifteen minutes after the elevator doors shut closed behind Lisbon and Cho and Rigsby had gone to get lunch, Jane hopped up from the couch and grabbed the keys off of Van Pelt's desk.

"You're not supposed to go anywhere." Van Pelt reminded him. He smiled the smile that always made her melt a little inside. Hell, any woman would.

"_I'm _not going anywhere; we're going somewhere. Come on." He said taking her hand and pulling her from her seat as Van Pelt tried to stutter out one of ten questions. One won out, eventually.

"Where are we going?" Van Pelt asked as Jane pressed the elevator button.

"You remember that thing I whispered to you earlier?"  
"Yeah." She replied. He'd leaned over and asked her to find a list of all of James Keating's former corpses. One of the most recent was Lynn's mother, which indicated that the pair knew each other a lot better than Keating had let on. "What about it?"

"Harrison truly liked Sonia, but not as much as he liked Lynn. If James Keating was Lynn's mysterious lover, the one she dumped Harrison for, then maybe-"

"Harrison killed Sonia to get back at Keating for stealing his girl?" Van Pelt finished tentatively.

"Well done, Van Pelt." Jane gave her a small round of applause as the elevator dinged and opened. "You really are improving."

-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-

Lisbon sighed as she pulled up to the Starbucks where she had reluctantly agreed to meet Harrison. Might as well get this over with. Her hand unconsciously went to the gun at her hip, as if to reassure herself that she was allowed to shoot and he wasn't. She got out of the car and walked inside, grabbing a coffee from the clearly sleep deprived boy at the counter before joining Harrison at a table in the corner.

"I would have gotten that for you." Harrison said with his spindly smile etched on his face.

"No thanks. I'm never drinking anything you offer me _again_." Lisbon replied.

"Oh, now now, I just want to talk."

"Great; what the hell've you got?"  
"Why don't you try that again? I don't think your boss would be too happy to see a prime informant-"

"Suspect." Lisbon muttered.

"-walk away without giving his information."

"Okay, then, what do you have to say, Mr. Harrison?"

He raised an eyebrow at her knowingly. She rolled her eyes.

"What do you have to say, _Geoffrey_?"

"That's better. And I'd prefer not to talk here." He nodded his head towards the back door, and Lisbon rolled her eyes at him, but nonetheless followed him out. She only took her eyes off him for a minute to throw her cup in the trash, but he made it into the alley behind the Starbucks before her. When she pushed through the door she was greeted with a relentless club to the head with a large trashcan and hit the ground instantly, knocked out. Geoffrey smirked as he dragged her to his car, waiting a few feet away.

"Oh, Teresa," he said, clicking his tongue at the unconscious form in his back seat as he drove away, "_Never_ trust a man who says he just wants to talk."


	12. James Keating's Confession

**A/N:** Here is a bag of dead fish, everyone: you may now feel free to beat me to death with them. My deepest apologies for making you wait, but I'm a dysfunctional high school senior with way too much on her plate right now, and from now on the last few chapters will be a little more regulated thanks to the (no lie) two feet of snow on my lawn. Also, you may remember that in the early chapters I mentioned a Point Park University sweatshirt that I got visiting the college? Yeah, well, it's my first choice, and I got accepted with 11,000 bucks a year scholarship money. Hooray for me.

Anywho, this is the LAST chapter before the big reveal, so PM or review me your guess, and I'll award the winner in some way. The questions you are answering are Clue style: who killed Sonia Keating, with what, and who of the team will be the first to realize it. And away you go!

**Disclaimer:** Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue, and the Mentalist we all love we can all own too…

* * *

James Keating's apartment was as clean as it had been the first time the CBI had investigated, Van Pelt noted with shock, even though his sister had just been killed. There were no signs of grieving, save a small shrine to his sister in the corner: photos of the two of them together in various places, and with other people. Their parents, friends, and a man who looked-

"Remarkably like Tara Downs." Jane whispered over her shoulder. Van Pelt jumped.

"I asked you not to do that," she whispered. He smiled.

"You just need to be more aware of your surroundings. I'm trying to help."

Van Pelt shook her head and set the picture down. "Who do you think this is?"

"Three guesses, and you won't need the other two."  
"Johnny Scythe?"  
"Tara Downs' kid brother, and an influential drug seller."

"All right, let's give Cho and Rigsby a call so they can-"

"They're busy."

Van Pelt raised an eyebrow. "Doing what?"

Jane turned towards the doorway, where Keating was entering with beverages.

"Just a little assignment. Ah." Jane picked up his cup of tea, took a sip, and smiled. "Perfect."

"I'm still confused as to why-"

"If you don't mind, we'll ask the questions." Van Pelt said, trying to sound sharper than she felt. How could James Keating have anything to do with his sister's murder? She couldn't believe that she'd allowed Jane to convince her that Sonia had been the target of a revenge killing. But Jane had always been far too persuasive to even attempt debating with. "Would you mind explaining your connection to John Downs, Mr. Keating?"

"Who?"

"Johnny Scythe." Jane supplemented with a sip of his tea.

"Oh, him. Yeah, he's a good friend of mine. Good kid. Knows what he's gonna do with his life, and-"

"Sells you narcotics on the side?" Van Pelt finished, casually flipping open her notepad.

"No, I, er, didn't, uh, he never-"

Jane shook his head. "Three negatives in one sentence? Doesn't look good for you."

"Just tell us what happened, Mr. Keating. Maybe we can cut you a deal." Van Pelt added, trying to coax him into confession with dulcet tones.

"Okay, okay, okay, so Johnny was slipping me some Nemosyne for reduced rates, because we're buds, right, and I was intending to sell it to the hospital for twice that and split the profit between us. But then…well, that Harrison creep gets all obsessed with my sister and I had to offer him something…"

Keating paused.

"Go on." Van Pelt nearly growled. If the reason that this young, beautiful girl died was because her brother had been stupid enough to give free drugs to a psychopath, there'd be hell to pay.

"So I had this girl I was seeing behind Harrison's back, his girlfriend Lynn Marsters, and well, I offered to let him have her all to himself if he'd stop dating my sister. He was still on the fence, so I offered him, I don't know, ten doses of Nemosyne as a further incentive. He made me swear not to tell anyone that we'd made the deal, otherwise-"

That was all they needed to hear, and before long they were racing to the car with one goal in mind: Getting to Lisbon. Van Pelt tried her cell.

"Jane, she's not answering. She always has her phone, unless-" Van Pelt didn't finish; it couldn't be true.

"Unless she's in trouble." Jane said calmly. "In which case we'll have to rescue her. Again. Typical Lisbon, always the damsel in distress."

Van Pelt managed a small, hollow laugh. Leave it to Jane to be able to lighten the mood. She couldn't tell if he was cracking jokes to calm her or himself down, but of one thing she was certain: for once, Van Pelt thought as they sped down the road at Mach 5, she was glad that Jane was driving.

* * *

"Yeah, there was a pair in here about a half hour ago…real creepy sort of guy and this pretty little number, dark hair and green eyes…he tried to buy her coffee but she wouldn't let him, I assumed it was a blind date or something."

"Thanks. Don't go anywhere, okay?" Van Pelt said, taking the guy at the counter's name and number down for reference. "Where were they sitting?"  
"Well, they sat at that table, but only for a minute or two. He said something to her and then they both went out the back."

Van Pelt felt a chill run up her spine; so her worst fear had been confirmed. She turned around to tell Jane, but saw the back door swing closed. If he had figured it out…then it had to be true. Van Pelt headed out the back door after telling the counter guy to keep everyone away from the alley behind the Starbucks and looked around to see where Jane had gone.

"Van Pelt!" Jane shouted hoarsely from her left, lifting something up with a pen from his pocket. Van Pelt ran over to see, dangling from a snapped chain, Lisbon's gold cross.

"My God." Van Pelt breathed. "He's got her."


	13. Lisbon in Distress

**A/N:** See? I told you I'd be better about posting chapters. Hopefully all of you have made your guesses by now, since I've given you about 9 hours. If not, that's fine; I'm sure you all just want to see this beast ended already. Here it is: the big reveal. One more chapter, folks!

**Disclaimer:** If I owned The Mentalist I'd be on a date with young Jane right now, not writing this fanfiction.

* * *

Lisbon awoke with a throbbing headache and a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. The throbbing, of course, was from being whacked in the head, while the sick feeling was from realizing that she was half sitting-half lying on an unknown bed in an unknown apartment with her hands tied behind her back. She squinted, willing her eyes to adjust to the dim light, and very soon could make out-

"You!" she hissed, glaring angrily into the eyes of Geoffrey Harrison who was sitting in a chair across from her, grinning like the sadistic serpent he was.

"Now, now, Teresa, this is the only way we'll both get what we want: you'll not only get your testimony, but also the whole story and all the evidence you need to put the killer in jail."

"And what do you get?"

He gave her a suggestive once over with his dark eyes, and she shuddered.

"No. Way. You come any closer, and I'll-"

"I don't think," Geoffrey growled, instantly cold and stone faced, "That you're in any…position to be making threats, Teresa. I really think you ought to just listen to what I have to say so that I can move on to the main event and let you scamper off to your CBI friends with tears in those blind eyes of yours."

Lisbon was speechless, as "not good" repeated itself over and over in her mind. Geoffrey cleared his throat, shifted his weight, laced his fingers together and continued, now lighthearted and sarcastic once more.

"You see, Teresa, I made a little deal with James Keating: I wouldn't date his sister, and in return I could have Lynn all to myself. He even got Sonia to break up with me, told her I was no good, so that I wouldn't be tempted. But Lynn…Lynn really wanted Keating, not me. And once she forgot about me, from the drug, you know…well, she didn't want to remember. That's the thing; if you want to remember, you'll remember, no matter how much you've taken. She clearly didn't want to. She hit me with a vase! Well, couldn't have that, could I? So I called her. She was really freaked out, wanted to know how I got her number, so I explained that Sonia wanted the two of us to get together. Fed her some sort of bull about how she didn't think Lynn deserved her brother. Boy, was Lynn pissed, so much she actually met me for dinner last night. Well, not just dinner. Best angry sex I've ever had…" he looked down at Lisbon with a devilish grin, "You know, it'd be way better with you, I bet."

"Bastard." Lisbon growled, her muscles straining as she tried to free her wrists.

"Ah, ah, ah, that's not nice. I'm just trying to explain everything to you so you can stop trying to shoot me. I'm actually innocent."  
Lisbon let out a bark of a laugh. "You? Innocent?"

"Okay, innocent of murder. Hear me out."

Lisbon rolled her eyes, and he continued. "When Lynn was about to leave my apartment Saturday night, she asked if I had anything she could tie some stuff down with, for her trunk. Said she was moving some stuff into her aunt's house and that her car wasn't big enough. So I gave her, oh, must have been seven feet of rope, about two inches 'round. And she left shortly after that."  
Lisbon felt the pieces click into place in her head. "So you're saying-"

"That I killed my roommate for being an insufferable bitch? Yeah, that's right." Lynn appeared in the doorway, scoffing at the restrained Lisbon and grasping a gun in a white knuckled fist. "Oh, I wasn't good enough for her brother. Ha! She wasn't good enough to live."  
Lisbon was feeling less and less optimistic by the minute. Hell hath no fury, as they say. "Lynn, I want you to just calm down. Sonia never said any of those things. Geoffrey was just trying to seduce you. "

Lynn's eyes were slightly glazed over; it was clear she'd been drinking.

"He…so I…for nothing?" She shut her eyes and shook her head slowly. Lisbon thought she was in the clear, but it wasn't long before Lynn's eyes snapped open, her face boiling over with rage. "YOU!" she screamed, pointing the gun at Geoffrey, who practically tore Lisbon up from the bed and used her as a shield. "Don't try to hide behind a cop; I'm gonna kill you, even if I have to get through her!"

Oh shit, Lisbon thought, not good. Luckily, just as Lynn started shouting about how Geoffrey had made her kill her best friend just to get in her pants, the phone rang. Lynn picked up.

"Who is this?" she barked, but soon her face softened. "James…yeah, it's Lynn…" she was absorbed in her lover's voice, and couldn't hear Lisbon whispering to Geoffrey.

"There's a gun tucked into my hip holster." She elbowed him as he groped a little lower than he should have, and hissed, "Could you please focus on the situation?"

"Maybe. If you promise to-"

"Yes, fine, whatever; just shoot her, for God's sake, and try not to kill her."

Geoffrey grinned, and cocked the gun a little too loudly. Lynn dropped the phone and raised her own gun, but Geoffrey was too quick. He kicked Lisbon in the back of her right knee, making her drop, and shot Lynn once in the right shoulder. She fell and didn't move.

"Good. Shouldn't be fatal. Now untie me and give me my gun." Lisbon said. Geoffrey grinned sadistically.

"What on earth makes you think the situation has changed? You're still my prisoner and I still intend to have my way with you," he brushed her face and grinned as she squirmed at his touch. "

Geoffrey, there is a woman lying injured on the floor. This is no time to be thinking of-"

"Look, she tried to kill me, and you. I don't care if she kicks it, and neither should you."

"Geoffrey, please-"

"All right, all right, geez. Christ, what kind of cop are you?" Geoffrey stood and dragged Lynn Marsters, still alive and groaning how she would kill him, out of the apartment. Lisbon took the opportunity to work her phone into her tied hands and call the last number she had dialed: Jane.

"Hel-lo, Miss Lisbon in Distress." He said cheerfully when he picked up. "What's up?"

"Get your ass to Geoffrey's apartment or the event you so skillfully prevented on Sunday will become a reality."

"He's gonna-?" Jane left the question open ended.

"Hopefully not if you hurry. And bring some EMTs; Lynn Marsters tried to kill us so he shot her and now he's taken her somewhere. She's still alive, I think."

Geoffrey returned a few moments later. "When she reaches the ground floor in the elevator, someone will take care of her, all right?"

Lisbon prayed to God in heaven that Jane would hear Geoffrey and, for once in his life, be completely silent. God was listening.

Geoffrey cracked his knuckles once the door was locked and the curtains closed. "Now, Teresa, would you like a drink to make this easier?" She shivered. Hurry, Jane. Geoffrey's grin melted into a cold, sadistic wisp of a smirk. "You know what? I have a better idea."

Geoffrey grabbed Lisbon by the collar and dragged her onto the bed, taking more rope and tying one arm and then the other to the bed posts, despite her struggles. He was a lot stronger than she'd thought he'd be, having entertained the thought of fighting him off. He left the room, and she hoped it would be long term, but no dice. He returned with-

There are very few things that cause legitimate fear in people, even fewer for Teresa Lisbon. A syringe in the hands of a man bent on raping her was just second to a madman with a loaded gun pointed at the head of a colleague.

"No…not that. Please, don't…" she whispered, straining with all her strength to break free of the ropes. But he just smiled, leisurely walked to her, gripped her wrist until she could feel it bruising, and pushed the needle into her arm. The effect was immediate, not a half hour endeavor like Sunday night. This dose of Nemosyne was in her blood on contact, and the room immediately went hazy...sleepy. Lisbon stopped pulling and felt a smile spreading across her face; suddenly being still was a really cool idea. She didn't even feel Geoffrey climb on top of her, or notice that he was cutting her jacket off with a knife he'd pulled from a drawer in his nightstand. She felt the scorching kiss he placed on her neck though, and it felt like that alone could kill her. She didn't want this…her shirt was next, but by the time he got it off the door burst open, and a whirlwind of man grabbed him off the bed and crashed him against the wall.

"YOU AGAIN! God, leave me the fuck alone! I just want one thing, just one thing, and you're always-"

Geoffrey was silenced by a punch to the face.

"Shut up, or I will rip your vocal chords out of your throat and make you."  
Lisbon shivered. Was that…Jane? God, he sounded…angry couldn't represent his voice, nor could furious, for that matter. The only word that could come close was…enraged.

"Yeah? Rip this." Geoffrey growled, and thrust the knife into Jane's side. Jane fell, but not before noticing a glint of black metal on the floor next to him. Geoffrey pulled the gun from his pocket.

"Teresa…two people dead because of you? That can't be good. I'm starting to wonder if you're worth it."

Jane…dead? Was that what he had said? She squirmed against the ropes again; now it was way more important to check on Jane than to rest.

Geoffrey pointed the gun at her stomach, and she froze. "You know what? You're not."

He'd have pulled the trigger then, but the sound of a gunshot and a sharp pain between his shoulder blades stopped him. In his haste to remove Lynn's body, he'd left her gun on the floor, and Jane's bleeding fingers were clutching it now as it smoked from the shot. Geoffrey scowled.

"Oh, hell, no." he growled, pulling his own trigger and, with a satisfied smirk at Lisbon's cry, fell to the ground.

Lisbon heard herself screaming, saw her stomach bleeding, but the only thing she cared about was whether or not Jane was all right. She saw his bloody hands use the bed as leverage to pull himself up, and he paled when he saw her. He ran to the door and shouted at the top of his lungs for help from the CBI who had come running when they heard the shots. But Lisbon didn't get to see their faces…the room kept spinning until it all faded to black…


	14. Just Keep Swimming

A/N: So, the last chapter. I'm sorry if you don't like the way it ends, but I'm still working out exactly the way that I'd like Jane and Lisbon to end up show-wise, so this was the best way for me to reconcile with that. Thanks for staying with me the whole way, and if you've got suggestions for me to write in the future, I'd be happy to take some. P.S. I snuck in a quote from an obscure sci-fi show here that Zooey Deschanel starred in. Whoever catches it gets a huzzah.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist; that lucky boy Bruno Heller does, but at least my name isn't that of my friend's St. Bernard.

* * *

Lisbon awoke to the feeling of being watched, and as she sharpened her peripheral vision she realized that she was correct: the ever vigilant sleepless Jane, who was sitting in a chair about five feet away.

"How are you?" he asked. She gave him a pointed, I've-been-shot-what-do-you-think look, and he smiled. "Sorry. Force of habit."

"Not too bad." She tried to pull herself into a sitting up position, and gasped as pain lanced through her stomach. He was at her side in an instant, looking her over carefully. "Nix that," she groaned as he rang for the nurse.

After a quick test to see if she was healing normally, the nurse gave Lisbon some moderate pain medication and left, promising to check back later once she had numbed. Jane and Lisbon began talking about the case, and it was a good while before she remembered something.

"You said that there was one trigger that didn't really have to do with the case…but that would be helpful for me to remember."

She could see him swallow - was that nervousness? - before making a gesture for her to turn over. Seeing as a good percentage of her body was numb by now, this was slightly difficult but not too painful.

"Close your eyes." He murmured, and began massaging her back. Lisbon sighed, and he let her enjoy the feeling for a few moments before activating the trigger by pressing hard against her lower back and the space between her shoulder blades.

_They were in her apartment, and Lisbon could hear the afterthoughts of her telling him just how much she wanted him…Lisbon cringed as she realized just how little clothing she was actually wearing, which would be practically none. She had missed something, but suddenly it wasn't important, as, without warning, Memory Jane slammed her back into the wall. She gasped from the pain, but he muffled her by capturing her lips in a kiss that would throw even Teresa Lisbon off her game._

"_Why don't I give you a massage?" he purred, leading her towards her bed as he kissed her neck. She didn't reply. Couldn't, as a matter of fact; she was so ecstatic that he was finally giving in that she was taking complete notice of every sensation in her body, not daring to distract herself with words. As they reached the bedside, he picked her up and laid her face down and began massaging her lower back, then upper, then shoulders, and finally her neck. _

"_Oh, Patrick…Patrick that feels so good…" she moaned, reveling in the firm but gentle pressure of his strong hands on her back. She could hear that he was completely silent for a moment. When he continued, his voice was a little shaky at first, and then gradually grew smoother and softer._

"_Listen to me, Lisbon…listen to my voice…can you hear me?"_

"_Don't call me that…" she murmured. Turns out snappy comebacks can't be blotted out. Take that, Nemosyne._

"_Teresa…just listen to my voice…I only ask one thing of you: for you to just sink into the feeling of relaxation spreading through you. It makes you happy, doesn't it? To be this relaxed?"_

"_To be…you…relaxed…yes." She replied quietly, feeling herself stumble over the words as her mind struggled, the drug still in her system. She felt Jane's hands twitch, but then they pressed harder until she sighed, and he continued._

"_Teresa, when you wake up tomorrow, you'll remember everything that happened tonight. You'll remember everything that Geoffrey Harrison said to you, you'll remember the fight in the parking lot, and you'll even remember-" he stumbled over the words, "trying to seduce me. You'll remember that nothing happened. But only if you want to. Only if you want to, do you understand? If you don't want this to ever happen again, then you don't have to remember. It can just fly away, like a little butterfly, into the back of your mind. And you can always trust me. Always, you know that, right?"_

"_Really?" She had heard that before, from her father, and it made her bristle and grit her teeth._

"_Yes, Teresa, you can always trust me. Just relax." He was massaging her jaw now, and Lisbon could feel all the tension release. But his hands on her face, almost on her lips…it reminded her how badly she wanted him to kiss her, to hold her, to completely overpower her and captivate her…she felt herself waking up, becoming more alert; Lisbon knew that the drug was messing with her concentration._

"_Patrick, you promised we were going to-" she felt herself saying anxiously._

"_Ah, ah, ah, Teresa, don't put words in my mouth. I promised no such thing."_

_Lisbon tried to stand, angry, but Memory Jane wouldn't let her. He laid one hand on the small of her back and the other between her shoulder blades, rubbing in circles on each spot._

"_Then promise this: don't you dare be gone when I wake up. If you're not here with me come morning, I'll shoot you." She said, settling back into the trance from the rhythmic motions of Jane's hands._

"_I promise. Deep breath, Teresa." He said, pressing down hard as she did so, hearing her back crack and the tension knotting her spine release. She sighed contentedly. "That's it."_

Lisbon was shocked as the memory ended. So when she had all but chased Jane out of her apartment…he was just keeping a promise! Immediately racked with guilt, she tried to sit up, tried to start apologizing.

"Lisbon…just let me talk to you for a minute, okay?"

Lisbon stopped moving, just laid there and enjoyed the feel of his hands, still resting on her back.

"It's all well and good, remembering and all, I mean, but…I can make you forget it all again. In a heartbeat. I want to go back to the way we were before, so we can both do our jobs. Because knowing everything you said…" he faltered. Was he making any sense? Don't second guess; solder on. "I never want to be a burden to you. I never want to be the reason that you maybe can't do your job. I want to help you, not hinder you. And if these memories-"

"Jane."

He stopped. Lisbon sat up, looking into his eyes with a smile…no, a smirk on her face. And then she started laughing. Jane was puzzled. Was she laughing…at him?

"Jane, I care about you. A lot. I've proved it." She gestured to her wound. "But I'm no giddy, wide-eyed girl skipping down a yellow brick road looking for all of life's answers. I'm content with being close to you. As co-workers, and as _friends_. The way we work…that's all we can be, for now. And after all, in the scope of things, this was just another case that took a slightly more…unconventional turn."

Jane hid his relief. Sure, he'd love to have her all to himself…but he wasn't ready for that yet. And neither was she. So, back to the good old days, then. That was just fine. Better than fine. It was perfect. Well, almost.

"If by 'unconventional' you mean 'drugged senior agent trying to seduce the pants off her consultant', then, yeah, unconventional, by all means."

Lisbon blushed and glared, throwing a punch at his shoulder which he dodged easily. So she'd manage to cover up the fact that what she wanted most in the world was a ring on each of their left hands. Well, that was a dream for another day. For now, the man she found herself closer to than a coworker or a friend had to avenge his family and forgive himself for what happened. Maybe after that…Jane knocked on the side of her head teasingly, but then backed up just far enough that she couldn't reach him to retaliate.

When Rigsby, Van Pelt, and Cho entered, Lisbon and Jane were bantering as usual. As if nothing had happened between them. In fact, to those three, nothing had. To those three, all that had happened was a freak drug used against their boss. And that would be enough. Rigsby crossed his arms, and the manta ray on his muscle could be seen swimming through his sleeve. Jane smiled, and looked at the tattoo again, realizing how ironic it was that the best option here had been with him all along: just keep swimming.


	15. A Bonus Chapter

**A/N: **I kind of feel like I owe you a little extra, having made you wait some three months for the end of this, so you get *duh duh duh duhhhhhhh* A BONUS CHAPTER. Yes, ladies and gents, an encore for the lovely readers at , that took me HOURS to think up.

Okay, so that last bit's a lie; it's more like a rough draft, or as I like to call it, a "scrapple". When I was writing the final chapter, I originally had Jane thinking about what had happened, and Lisbon never knowing because he wanted to keep their partnership intact. Therefore, the bit in italics, the last trigger, was a memory from Jane's point of view. There's a lot more detail and some funny internal monologues on Jane's part, and I personally can't read it without chuckling. So, ladies and gents, here you go: A Bonus Chapter chuckle.

P.S.: If you can catch the Iron Man reference in here, I'll be just tickled pink.

**Disclaimer:** "What a fine life, carrying the banner through it all"-Newsies; it'd be a finer life if I owned the Mentalist. But I don't. Still, I love Kid Blink to DEATH.

* * *

The minute they were inside Lisbon's apartment, she attacked him.

Jane tried to hold her off, but to no avail. Despite being small, Lisbon was a determined powerhouse; if she decided that she wanted something, _she got it_. That was that. And right now, she wanted Jane. More than anything else in the world. More than she wanted her mother alive again, and her father, before he'd started drinking, and her brothers happy like they once were. For a moment, she forgot all about her life, all about who she was. He was everything in that moment. Everything.

Jane knew he had to play along. Had to act like he wanted her just as bad. It wouldn't be hard, though, seeing as a part of him actually did. He didn't know how influential that part would be on his actions tonight, but he knew that when she kissed him, he didn't mind kissing her back. Still, he had to think of her as normal Lisbon, or else he might play along a little too well. Boss Lisbon. Lisbon at the office. Boss Lisbon. Lisbon at the- her dress dropped to the floor. And what she was wearing underneath would make a bikini blush.

"Oh, dear." Jane said aloud, unable to keep his eyes from taking permanent mental photographs of her body. She grinned, and leaned in for another kiss.

Jane shortly realized that if she kept this up much longer he wouldn't be able to hold himself back. Part of him didn't want to. Part of him wanted to see Lisbon with no inhibitions and no control over her actions. To hold her in his arms, to feel her kiss warm on his neck. But he knew the minute he thought of it that that would be inhumanly wrong. Desirable, but wrong. Maybe another time he could convince her to drop all her phobias and all her limitations. And speaking of dropping…He mentally swore.

She had already gotten his vest off during his internal monologue, and was working on his shirt. He tried to stop her, but he didn't want to hurt her and she was a lot stronger and more persistent than he'd previously thought.

"Lisbon, dear, please…just calm down." He looked her straight in the eyes. Bad idea; her eyes just glazed over and she tried to crush her lips to his. He slipped his arms underneath hers and pulled back on her shoulders, halting her in her tracks. "Try to think clearly. You don't want this."

"Yes, I do!" Lisbon said, frustrated by his lack of cooperation, "I want it all the time! Every time you smile at me, every time you prove me wrong, hell, every time you piss me off! God, Jane, I just want-" she managed to pull the shirt off of him and run her hands up his bare chest.

"_Red Alert: her hands are on your chest. ABSORB AND DEFLECT._" Jane's mind flashed the warnings as clearly as if they had been written in red text across his vision. Absorb and deflect…_oh, if she remembers tomorrow she'll kill me_, he thought.

Without warning, Jane slammed her back into the wall. She gasped from the pain, but he muffled her by capturing her lips in a kiss that would throw even Teresa Lisbon off her game. He swallowed as she winced; he regretted having to hurt her, but basic hypnosis requires a jolt of both the conscious and the subconscious. He'd gotten the conscious; now for the hard part.

"Why don't I give you a massage?" he purred, leading her towards her bed as he kissed her neck. She didn't reply. Couldn't, as a matter of fact; she was so ecstatic that he was finally giving in that she was taking complete notice of every sensation in her body, not daring to distract herself with words. As they reached the bedside, he picked her up and laid her face down and began massaging her lower back, then upper, then shoulders, and finally her neck.

"Oh, Patrick…Patrick that feels so good…"

Jane almost lost it. Hearing her moan his name like that, his first name…he could have given in to her advances right then and done what she wanted, whatever she wanted, just to hear her say his name like that again. But he knew that, come tomorrow, he would just be Jane again. It almost made him sad, and yet…it was normalcy. Something that he had lacked in his past, but that had become a part of his present. And that normalcy made both him and Lisbon happy. So cheers to it.

"Listen to me, Lisbon…listen to my voice…can you hear me?"

"Don't call me that…" she murmured.

Snappy as usual. He smiled. "Teresa…just listen to my voice…I only ask one thing of you: for you to just sink into the feeling of relaxation spreading through you. It makes you happy, doesn't it? To be this relaxed?"

"To be…you…relaxed…yes." She replied quietly, feeling herself stumble over the words as her mind struggled with the drug still in her system. He felt a tug of his heartstrings, of pity for his friend, and pressed harder until she sighed. He swallowed, and continued.

"Teresa, when you wake up tomorrow, you'll remember everything that happened tonight. You'll remember everything that Geoffrey Harrison said to you, you'll remember the fight in the parking lot, and you'll even remember-" he stumbled over the words, "trying to seduce me. You'll remember that nothing happened. But only if you want to. Only if you want to, do you understand? If you don't want this to ever happen again, then you don't have to remember. It can just fly away, like a little butterfly, into the back of your mind." Now for a little something for him. "And you can always trust me. Always, you know that, right?"

"Really?"

"Yes, Teresa, you can always trust me. Just relax." He was massaging her jaw now, feeling all the tension release, hoping she wouldn't get back on to the let's-get-it-on kick again. Wishful thinking. She was starting to snap out of the trance; the alcohol and the drug Harrison had slipped her were messing with her concentration.

"Patrick, you promised we were going to-"

"Ah, ah, ah, Teresa, don't put words in my mouth. I promised no such thing."

Lisbon tried to stand, angry, but Jane wouldn't let her. He laid one hand on the small of her back and the other between her shoulder blades, rubbing in circles on each spot.

"Then promise this: don't you dare be gone when I wake up. If you're not here with me come morning, I'll shoot you."

"I promise. Deep breath, Teresa." He said, pressing down hard as she did so, and hearing her back crack and the tension knotting her spine release. She sighed contentedly. "That's it."

It wasn't long before she fell asleep. He hadn't the heart to try to put her clothes back on her; he didn't want to wake her from what he knew was a much needed sleep. And she was beautiful when she slept. She was peaceful. The features normally wrought with the frustration of police work were completely relaxed, and he could tell she was having a good dream from the way she smiled every so often. It never occurred to him that she might not remember come morning, so it never occurred to him to put his shirt and vest back on; he just lay down next to her to watch her as she slept, eventually drifting off into a short but sweet sleep of his own.


End file.
